Make no mistake about it, when you see The Primate Fiasco, you and your mom will reconcile years of emotional baggage, swing dance together, and both leave fans. It happened to me. They are that good.

The shoe-gazing, bored with life attitude that has infected the music scene these days will have to be checked at the door, because this band is going to work hard to make you move. They are going to pull out killer horn harmonies, dueling banjo/tuba jams, and New Orleans street funk. You won’t be able to just stand there, I promise. They will cover a song like “Sweet Georgia Brown” or “Summertime” that you think you know, and by the time they have finished with it, you’ll feel like Bela Fleck and Bach just got done with it, trust me. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Already you can see horns making their comeback in music, kids are loosening up a bit and (*gasp*) actually having a good time at a show! I hope the Fiasco know what they are getting into, because once the music scene has had a taste of the madness that is their live show, no one is going to want to go back to the egotistical ramblings of some rich white kid from upstate New York. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

The Primate Fiasco is a psychedelic freak show of intense musicianship and performance. They have no equal or even contemporary in this day in age of music, which is what makes them so dangerous. Their recent addition of Chris Trevethan on drums solidifies in my mind that they are preparing for a revolutionary take-over of modern music as we know it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

These guys aren’t a novelty. It isn’t just about the fact that they play different instruments than most bands (Clarinet, Trumpet, Tuba, Banjo, Drums), this is about the fact that they are ten times the talent and ten times the presence of what is going on at clubs these days. Our generation is getting sick of the sob story indie-rockers singing about their last breakup. We are sick of pretending to look disinterested during a set. TPF is about more than just music, it is about an environment of laughing, dancing, singing, stomping the floor, clapping your hands, and going home sweaty.

Honky-tonk, blues, big band, indie, ragtime, jazz, rock? I don’t know where to begin. I could just as easily lump them with Radiohead as I could with Muddy Waters, because they both have soul that reaches across the lines of time and space, and touches people, on a raw, human level. And after being touched, no one can quite put into words what has happened. It isn’t about what it sounds like, despite them being a band, it’s about what you feel like after it’s over. Sometime has changed. You walk home feeling ten pounds lighter. Your skin breathes easier, and you smile like a child. Was it all just a dream?

I lived in New Orleans, years ago, and I remember being humbled daily by the vast talent that sat on street corners, in tiny jazz clubs and opium dens, playing music that changed my life. They did it because they had too. They did it because it was all they knew. Old men who could barely read, but could play the trumpet or guitar better than any virtuoso on any record you owned. It was here that I leaned the importance of the artist to love their work. To need their art. To feel that they would be empty without it. To fill their lungs each day with the air of the muse and then share it with the world that evening.

When I first met TPF, they were playing all day long at six flags during the day, in the middle of a very hot summer, and then most nights a week, going out and playing a show. These were guys who would drive an hour out of their way after a long day at work, with their chops surely sore, and play a magical show that would get us all hopping. That is the truth that is in their music. They do it because they must. And we respect and love them for what they do.

They are well on their way to being a household name and it begins with each and every one of us seeing them play. Becoming a part of what it is they embody. It is irresistible, powerful, and it will get under your skin, brighten your day, and make you realize that this might be the best time of your life. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

- Sam Dillon, Cup of Sun